by K. E. Saxon
Julie stood up. “You found Lou?”
“No, no. Nothing like that. But when I was getting the preliminary work in order for the annulment, I couldn’t find your marriage license on the online file with the Marriage Bureau—”
“What??” Julie sank back onto the sofa. “How is that possible?”
Adam chuckled. “Because you guys never got married! I talked to the clerk directly myself—no record exists of a marriage between you two.” He shrugged and shook his head. “All I can figure is you guys got truly toasted, partied somewhere—or, hell, shopped somewhere—where you got a fake marriage certificate made. Isn’t that great! No annulment, no divorce necessary.”
Julie shook her head and moved her gaze to the wall of windows behind Adam. “All these weeks….”
“Yeah, I know.” He sat back and grinned. “This is going to make my man, Jase, a very happy boy.”
She leapt to her feet. “Pardon me, Adam. I’ve just remembered an errand.”
“Oh.” He rose to his feet. “Well I guess you can tell Jason when he gets home. He can call me if he has any questions.”
She waved her hand. “No. Please. Sit. Wait here. It’ll be better coming from you.” And then she slung her purse strap over her shoulder and hurried out of the apartment.
* * *
“Where’s the nearest place to rent a car around here?” Julie asked the concierge less than three minutes later.
“There’s one about a block from here—but I can get them to deliver one in no time, Mrs. Jörgensen, just tell me what type of car you like.”
“No, no. That won’t be necessary. Thanks George.” Julie hurried out the glass door and got into one of the cabs that worked this particular High Rise beat. By nine—ten at the latest—she should be back home, where she belonged.
* * *
It was nearing eleven-o’clock that night by the time Jason slammed his car into park in front of the farmhouse and careened up to the door and into the kitchen on a full head of steam. He’d thought he’d calmed down on that long drive back to Buffalo Pass, but the minute he saw the lights on, his fury came back in spades.
“Why the hell did you high-tail it home like that?”
Julie started violently and squealed, dropping the plate she’d been washing in the sink. Jason heard it clatter as it spun and wobbled in the porcelain sink. When she swung around and faced him, she was wide-eyed, slack-jawed and breathing like she’d just run the Boston Marathon.
“Did I frighten you? Good. Because you scared the living hell out of me.” He stormed over to the kitchen island and banged his fist down. “Jesus, Julie, you didn’t even call me or leave me a note! Or tell Adam where you were headed! And why haven’t you answered any of my calls?”
Julie took in a deep breath. Chewing on her lower lip, she brushed the hair away from her eye with the back of her sudsy hand. “I don’t want to fight, Jason. I really don’t.” She looked down as she jerkily wiped her hands on the dish towel. “You’re right,”—she lifted her gaze to his—“I should have left you a note, or called you, or told Adam, or something. But honestly, I figured you’d know where I went. And after Adam gave you the good news—and after our last conversation—I expected you to be relieved to have your apartment to yourself. You know—so you could celebrate your freedom?” She shrugged. “Bring a date there.”
Jason felt like he’d just taken a sucker punch to the solar plexus. He’d screwed up worse than he’d thought with that stupid lie about the nurse. So much for the romantic proposal. It was time to do some major damage control. He jammed his hand into his pocket and wrapped his fingers around the ring box. “Julie, I have something I want to give you—well, ask y—”
His cell phone vibrated and sent out the special ringtone from the emergency line at his and Paul’s office. Goddamnit to hell! “Hold on—I’ve got to take this.” He looked her straight in the eye and put the ring box on the counter. “This is for you.” Then he swung the phone to his ear and walked into the living room. “Talk to me.”
* * *
Julie’s eyes fell on the red square box with gold-filigree trim. It took several seconds for her heart to steady enough for her to breathe again, and then she reached out and lifted it into her hand. Gently, she pressed the gold button on the front that released the latch and opened the lid with the pad of her thumb.
“Oh my.” She grinned and sniffled. Then she peeked through the doorway leading into the living room, but Jason was out of her line of vision. She ran her finger over the pink emerald-cut center diamond, then down one side of the brilliant-cut white diamond encrusted side.
Her hand shook, but she managed to get the platinum ring on her finger. It was a little loose, but who cared? It was gorgeous—and it was hers! This had been no rushed afterthought, no sirree, but a genuine, deliberate purchase.
Suddenly, suddenly she knew. She just knew where he’d really gone that afternoon and she lifted her arms in the air and did a little jig, right there in her parents’ kitchen.
* * *
Jason strode back into the kitchen and grinned like a rookie with his first NFL touchdown when he saw the ring on Julie’s finger. Then he scooped her up, bent her back over the island counter and kissed the dickens out of her.
After a long moment, he broke away and lifted her up to sit on the island. “Look,” he said, running his hands up and down the sides of her thighs, “That was Paul. I’ve got to get back to Houston right away.”
“But—”
“I know, I know. We’ve got a lot to talk about—plan—but the chance at a multi-million dollar project just fell into our laps. We’re to present our proposal to the prospective client at ten a.m. tomorrow. That only leaves us a few hours to prepare once I get there. I really don’t have but another minute or two and then I’ve got to get back on the road.”
He kissed her hard on the lips one more time, then took a step back. “I’ll be back on Saturday afternoon. I’ve made a reservation for us at a little French restaurant I know in Dallas.”
And then he turned and fled before his giddy libido could delay him further.
* * *
Early Friday morning, Julie stared blindly at the directions for using the home pregnancy test. She was late. A week late. She’d only just realized it an hour ago.
But—was it too soon to tell? The package said not, but what if it was wrong?
This was not the end of the world. If she was pregnant, she’d just have to make the adjustment to her five-year plan. No big deal.
She gnawed on her thumbnail. Who was she kidding? She was scared to death of being pregnant, of having a baby. Especially since she knew Jason wasn’t ready for kids yet.
She knew he would be, though. Eventually. After a few years of her loving devotion.
But not now.
Her hand trembled as she pulled the stick from the foil wrapper. Well, she’d know in only a minute or two….
She couldn’t bring herself to look at the results for fifteen minutes, but when she did, a wave of relief crashed over her. Thank you, God.
But then, where was her period??
She wrapped the stick in toilet paper and threw it in the trash. Maybe she should take another test—use another brand. Just to make sure.
Twenty minutes later, she stood in the check-out line of the drugstore once more with three more boxes in hand.
* * *
“Julie! I’m home,” Jason called out as he closed the front door behind him. Her truck wasn’t in its regular place, but that didn’t mean anything: there were a lot of times when she’d drive it over to the worksite with food for the crew, but then walk back. She liked the open air and the exercise, she said.
“Hey, I’ve got a surprise for you!” It was a little pre-nuptial honeymoon, but also a reconnaissance trip for their new client.
He was pretty proud of himself—he’d been able to find out her passport status yesterday on the phone without her ever catching on about the trip he
had planned for them. ‘Course, he’d been sure she wouldn’t have one, since she didn’t like to fly, that they’d have to rush to get one for her. But luckily the girl liked wide-open spaces, because she’d told him she’d gotten one done a few months ago so she could still get into Canada, by land, to go camping.
When he still didn’t get a response, he took a quick look in the kitchen and then strode down the hall to their bedroom. It was empty, too. He was just about convinced he’d have to go see if she was at the site, but before he did, he pushed the half-closed door to the bathroom open and glanced inside. “Julie? You here?”
Just as he was turning back into the bedroom, his mind registered what he’d just seen on the countertop and he swung back around and grabbed the box up in both hands.
Sonofabitch! How could this be? Condoms had never failed him—ever—not in all these years. He tossed the package back onto the counter and charged into the bedroom. He grabbed the box from the nightstand and tore it open to bring out the last three from the supply he’d brought back with him from Dallas nearly three weeks ago.
He meticulously studied each of the gold foil squares. It wasn’t long before he found the first hole. Damn it!
He tore open the packet and unrolled the condom. Then he ran water into it. The water didn’t come out in a long stream, as he’d feared it would. But it still leaked. And, as every high school kid knows, all it takes is a drop. One measly little drop held enough swimmers to impregnate the whole friggin’ female population of Buffalo Pass. And in the last three weeks he’d pumped a jetload into one sweetly receptive little womb.
He looked close at the box flap then, rubbing the pad of his thumb over the dried-glue residue. It was clear that, now that he was paying attention, the box had been tampered with as well. This had not happened at the factory.
* * *
When Julie saw Jason’s Vette, a deep-seated feeling of foreboding took her in its grip. She turned off the ignition and leapt down from the cab of the truck, leaving her newest purchases on the passenger-side seat. Maybe he hadn’t seen anything.
She could only hope.
Because, she was at least seventy-percent sure she wasn’t pregnant—and why worry him unless it became absolutely necessary?
* * *
“I’m not pregnant,” Julie said, clutching the bathroom door frame.
Jason turned and glared at her. “But you were trying to be?”
She took a step toward him. “No! What makes you think that?”
He held up the dripping condom. “This.” He glanced down at the counter and then returned his hot gaze to her. “These. There are holes in all of them.”
She sucked in a breath. “What?” She bolted forward and snatched up one of the other foil squares. “Ohmygod.”
“I don’t want kids, Julie. That hasn’t changed—and it’s never going to.
She looked at him then.
A tick began in his jaw as he narrowed his eyes at her. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the counter. “In fact,”—he picked up the last of the condom packets and turned it between his thumb and two fingers—“I’m making an appointment with my doctor to do what I should have done a long time ago.” He looked back up at her then. “I’m getting a vasectomy.”
Julie’s heart sank into her toes. “Jason, no!” She gripped his upper arm. “Don’t. Please. I know you’ll regret it.”
“No, Julie. I won’t.”
She crossed her arms and looked down.
Finally, she said, “But I will.”
Then, blinking away the mist, and straightening her crumpled features, she took in a deep, steadying breath and slipped the ring from her finger. The platinum metal met the porcelain tile with a hollow clink.
* * *
CHAPTER 11
Jason gunned the engine and smacked his hand down hard on the steering wheel. “This is all a load of bullshit!”
The Vette fishtailed on the wet road. “Ohhh, shit!” He let up on the gas and gently turned the wheel in the same direction the backend was moving. It took a couple more of such maneuvers before he was able to gain control of the vehicle again.
Rain hammered his windshield and the dark sky matched his mood. He could barely see five feet in front of him.
He’d left the ring on the counter where she’d put it.
He didn’t want it.
And she could choke on it for all he cared.
Now all he wanted to do was get to DFW, slam down a few shots, and catch that plane to Dubai he’d made reservations on late last night.
What an idiot he’d been. Of course, a girl like Julie would want kids. And he’d known it. Deep down. Way deep down. He’d known it. And ignored it.
He guessed he’d just hoped they’d have so much fun—fill their days with adventure—that she’d forget she wanted them.
But those condoms—he was convinced now it hadn’t been her who’d tampered with them. Maybe some psycho employee of the hotel where he’d bought them? He’d sure as hell be giving the hotel a call.
Damn! He’d have to call his dad from the airport. Or—maybe he should turn around and drive to Houston to talk to him in person? But, fuck! He had to catch that damned flight. The head of operations was going to be waiting for him at the airport when he landed, and he and Paul really needed this gig. It would not go over well for him to delay the trip due to a personal issue. Nothing short of death or near-death in the family would fly with those folks.
Nope, a phone call it would have to be.
God! He had totally, totally, totally fucked up.
* * *
“Pookie!” Julie called a third time from the porch, but it was useless. The roar of the rainwater pouring from the roof and slapping the ground drowned out her voice.
A flash of black lightning darted past her peripheral and she snapped her head around. “Pookie! Come here!” She dashed down the steps into the mud and rain and snatched the kitten up just as it was about to shimmy under the house.
She stood up with the frightened kitten in her arms and rushed back toward the porch steps.
A boom of thunder sounded.
She jumped and the kitten screamed. It clawed at her chest, drawing blood, but Julie managed to keep her grip on it. She trotted up the steps just as another firebolt flare slashed the heavens. For a split second, the porch was lit with an eerie blue light, and then it was awash once more in dismal storm-cloud gray.
Her hands shook and her teeth chattered, but she dried the kitten first, using one of the towels she’d brought out before. Then she opened the door a crack, nudged the kitty inside, and closed the door again, shutting the animal in and herself out.
She couldn’t bear to face the emptiness of her family’s home just now. Of being, once again, all alone—on her own. Not yet. So she dried herself as best she could with the remaining towel and then slumped onto the porch swing and began to softly sway.
For another half-hour the rain continued to pound the ground and the wind blew so strong it bent the trees, but Julie stayed put. Finally, the dark lady of the heavens slowly stopped weeping and only a soft pitter-patter was left to gently collide with the roof. It lulled Julie with its hushed repeat.
After awhile, her lids grew heavy, so she lay down on her side and dozed.
* * *
Gabe set the phone down on the end table. What a mess everything was. And even now, knowing that those two had not legally been married, as they’d all thought, he still wished his ploy had worked.
Because, even if Jason didn’t believe it, Gabe knew, without a doubt, that Jason would have found it within himself to welcome his own offspring into the world, if he’d had the opportunity.
Jason had only needed a little push in that direction was all.
But, it seemed, it was too late now.
Gabe had just tried, unsuccessfully, to convince his son to call Julie and tell her he’d been dead wrong, that he had no intention of getting a vasectomy, that
he loved her too much to allow their relationship to end.
But instead, Jason was doing what Jason did best: running away.
Just as he’d done after reading his mother’s diary five years ago. And it hadn’t been until Gabe had shown up at that bar on Sixth Street where Jason had been holing up as a bartender for way too long that Jason had finally come back home and turned his life around.
What Jason needed was a swift kick in the pants. Not literally, but figuratively.
But, for right now, all Gabe could think to do was go see how Julie was faring.
So, that settled in his mind, he rose from his recliner and padded into his bedroom to change into some traveling clothes.
* * *
Gabe swung his pride-and-joy, custom eggplant-purple ’66 Dynamic 88 convertible into the left lane of I-45 and turned the silver volume dial of the vintage car radio up to blast. Surfin’ Safari rattled the windshield and warred with the sound of passing cars, but he didn’t care, because he was having a good time.
He should’ve taken his two-year-old Caddy instead, but it made him feel old and stodgy. And right now, he wanted to feel young and alive. He wanted to feel the warm breeze on his face, in his hair, to enjoy the music and the vintage car and the open road.
Because, once he got to Buffalo Pass, there’d be some somber business to deal with. Something he wondered if Jason had ever even told Julie about, but something that Gabe was hoping, once she knew, would maybe change her mind and make her give his son another chance.
He’d barely gotten to the bank in time before it closed an hour ago. And now, on the black vinyl seat beside him lay the leather attaché, inside of which was the tattered Mork & Mindy spiral notebook that held the story of his poor wife’s secret shame.
* * *
The roar of a car engine and the crunch of wheels on gravel startled Julie out of a troubled sleep. She sprang into a sitting position, ramrod straight. Her sudden movement made the porch swing rock and it banged against the house behind her.
The blinding bright white of the headlights shimmied and shook, lighting up the porch like the rotating spotlights of a three-ring circus. She slammed her lids shut, covered her eyes and tried hard to clear the fog from her brain.
